


Corruption

by spacehopper



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 12:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12631503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehopper/pseuds/spacehopper
Summary: “It has occurred to me that ruling alone just doesn’t have quite the appeal it once did.” A too hot finger traces along his cheekbone, over his cracked lips. “After all, what’s eternity without someone to share it with?”





	Corruption

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadow_lover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_lover/gifts).



Noctis wakes to amber eyes and a twist of a smile. Everything else is dark, and he wonders for a moment if he’s still dreaming, if the hand against his throat, too tight for a caress but not quite choking, is just another troubled hallucination. He struggles for breath and memory, limbs oddly heavy.

The Crystal, but no, he never reached it, instead—

“Sleep well, sweet prince.” The words sweep over him, a cruel comfort. It’s over. He’s failed, but it is over.

He wonders if anyone is waiting.

*

“It has occurred to me that ruling alone just doesn’t have quite the appeal it once did.” A too hot finger traces along his cheekbone, over his cracked lips. “After all, what’s eternity without someone to share it with?”

Noctis shudders. There’s something wrong, beyond Ardyn’s taunts and the too bright lights and the manacles holding him upright. It’s inside him, wriggling and scraping against his chest, a brackish taste in the back of his mouth.

“What did you do to me,” he says, words choked and clipped. He pulls against his bonds, and feels warmth on his wrists. The pain should be excruciating, but everything feels oddly numb.

“Why, I’m saving you, dear boy,” Ardyn says. “Saving you from their lies, their cruelty. Do you really want to die for them?”

“Yes,” he says, then coughs hard, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat.  “What did you do to me?”

“Nothing they wouldn’t have done, given the chance.” He sees Ardyn clench a fist, a rare loss of control. His anger not at Noctis, no, but at those who he thinks wronged them both.

“I don’t want your help,” Noctis says through gritted teeth.

 “Oh, you will,” Ardyn says. Outside the light, something stirs. “In time, you will.”

A high, keening call comes from the creature, the daemon, whatever it is that lurks beyond them, just out of sight. Noctis struggles, wanting to run, towards it, away, he doesn’t even know anymore. He just knows he has to do something.

Ardyn runs a hand over his hair, like a master calming a skittish dog.

“Now sleep,” he says. “Let the darkness take you.”

*

There is a deamon before him, hideous and twisted. It paces just outside the circle of light, sometimes behind Noctis, sometimes in front, and all too often off to the side, so he can only barely see it, out of the corner of his eye.

Worst, though, is when it isn’t a daemon. Instead he sees Prompto, Gladio, Ignis. Iris, Luna, and even Ravus. And they’re in pain, terrible pain, being twisted by the daemon’s dark magic.

_You can save them._

The voice sounds like Ardyn. But then, so many of his thoughts do now. Can he? They had fought Ravus, killed him. But maybe he could have saved him. Maybe he could have saved them all.

_You left them to die._

Because they must all be dead now. Or they would have come for him. He knew they would have come if they could. Wouldn’t they? He swallows hard. The daemon is standing in front of him. He meets its eyes, a bright, pure blue. Noctis reaches out a hand, and all the lights dim except the one that now flares in his palm.

He can still save them.

Taking one step, then another, he approaches the daemon. It doesn’t move, eerie stare never leaving him. He wonders, briefly, when his restraints had been removed. But it doesn’t matter now. He has to help. It is his destiny, his duty. He places a hand on the daemon.

And it begins to melt.

He tries to draw back as it turns sticky and black beneath his palm, clinging to his hand, snaking its way up his arm. There is laughter behind him, but he can’t turn, can’t take his eyes off it.

_You failed._

No. He can’t fail, can’t let them down. But the darkness has reached his chest, tendrils moving around his neck, tightening its hold. He struggles as they brush his mouth, then his move across tongue. They stop there momentarily, and he feels a warm hand on his back, and lips brushing against his hair.

“Shh,” Ardyn says. “Soon, it will be all better.”

Noctis would have screamed, had the darkness let him.

*

He wanders the halls of the Citadel, empty and cold. It has been—he doesn’t even know. Weeks, maybe months, since he had been in Gralea. His friends are certainly dead, he knows that now. Dead like his father, dead like Luna. Dead like the world around him.

But he is alive.

He approaches the throne room, pushes open the door. Ardyn is on the throne, and he is smiling.

He holds out a hand. Noctis goes to him, slowly climbing the steps to stand before him.

“Do you expect me to kneel?” he says.

“No,” Ardyn says. He reaches a hand up, brushing against Noctis’s cheek, pulling him down to cup the back of his head. “You are the King of Lucis.”

“And you?” Noctis asks. Some part of him, distant and fading, knows this is wrong. But there are other voices now. Strong and getting stronger by the minute.

“Well, I am as well,” Ardyn says, laughing. “Why do we have to be alone?”

Yes. That makes sense. There is warmth in Ardyn’s amber eyes, and Noctis feels his lips twitch into a smile.

He doesn’t resist as Ardyn pulls him down, lips pressing against his, hand tugging gently at his hair.

The night is eternal, but then, so are they.


End file.
